Posts Tagged ‘love’

I know, it’s Hanukah and Christmas and I should be writing about that, or how weird it is that the Boo has absorbed a bunch of Santa lore by osmosis. But while I bake and wrap and pack and ship, Merry Merry HO HO is not what bubbles up when I think about what I want to write about.

About a month ago, the hubs suggested I take a night class at a local university, to get some time for myself. I was so touched, I almost teared up. I considered it, but between the cost and my lack of time to study, I opted to get an extra swimming session in.

Last weekend, we moved an old compact stereo to the Boo’s room so he can muck with it and yell into the Karaoke mike to his little heart’s content. The hubs went to fetch a few CDs, and then I heard it. Mannheim Steamroller Christmas. Or maybe Trans-Siberian Orchestra. Either way: Oh God no please make it stop. I’m not even sure the hubs knew how much I detest that “music” but he probably has a clue now since I made sure he saw one of my 88 eyerolls.

But. He loves it. He was dancing to it. And, because Daddy is Cool, the Boo was dancing too. Having a fabulous time with his adored Daddy. So I did the kindest thing I could think of to do. I walked away.

Last week, as I was gathering the 888 things the Boo needed for an overnight at his Grammie’s while mentally scrambling to put together a date night outfit, he came to find me. He was beaming, seriously, grinning and so, so very proud. And smeared with an impressive amount of Aquaphor (basically Vaseline) from his nipples to the top of his diaper. His shirt and pants had gotten in the way, so they were also, um, very well moisturized.

I gasped, a little confused, and then it hit me: I had put some of the stuff on his belly to soothe the rug burn he’d given himself sliding down the stairs. He was proud because he’d taken care of himself. He was happy because he’d done it all by himself. All of those thoughts flew through my head, and then I started laughing, because it really was very funny.

Friends, you can keep your menfolk who bring you flowers for no reason. I’ll keep mine, and let my heart fill with love whenever I get to swim laps on a weeknight. And I will show my love by leaving the room when a good Daddy-son session is centered on music I can’t stand. And if the Boo ever anoints himself again, I’ll do my best to react with love — toward myself, for being silly enough to leave the Aquaphor where he can get to it.

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I'm over 40. I'm raising a fourth grader. Hear me roar.


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